Midnight Predator
by Lady Black Widow
Summary: She was an assassin, not a baby-sitter. Just what did Draco Malfoy need protecting against anyway?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter—not mine. Draco Malfoy—I wish he were mine. My main character—all mine! The plot—mine, although I'm not sure why anyone would want to steal it.

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Midnight Predator Prologue

Magic. I never did like my magic. It completely changed my life. My mother was left by herself supporting two children by two different men. My pompous pureblood grandparents disowned her, their very own flesh-and-blood, because she fell in love with a Muggle, my sister's father. He left his eight months pregnant wife, my mother, after realizing she was a witch. Mother later married a proper wizard, my father, and a pureblood at that. However, he had delusions of grandeur and lived and died a Death Eater. I was seven when he perished.

We lived alone, just my mother, my sister, and me. My sister, Adela, was four years my elder and cared for me better than the woman who gave birth to me. My broken mother died of heartbreak when I was twelve, not half way through the torture that was my school. I thought I too would die of loneliness and hopelessness. But I made it though those impossible times with Adela's support.

Just the mere thought of magic had always scared me senseless. But not everything stays the same forever. When Adela died when soon after my fourteenth birthday, I saw no reason to keep myself afloat in these dark currents. Who caused her death? I'm not really sure, even to this day. But death by Aurors, death by Death Eaters, did it really make a difference? I was alone in a life I could not stand.

Well, I overcame my fear of witchcraft in fourth year—just for Adela. I put up with my school, Durmstang, but it didn't stop me from hating everyone, hating my life, angry at the world. I met others like me, others who loathed this freakish world with a passion that surpassed mine. They were the shunned ones, the power-hungry, the Machiavelli's of this age. Many called them Death Eaters or dark wizards, but they did not swear allegiance to anything but money.

Those who know my story call me a hypocrite. _'Death Eaters killed your sister and now you're one of them!' _No, I am not a Death Eater. They are nothing to me. They grovel at the feet of a walking dead man. I am above them.

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**Author's Notes:** Yes, this prologue is very dark, but so is the main character's past. The rest of the story will be a bit lighter and written in third person. Fic title is also the name of a book written by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes. I highly recommend all of her books.

Review please!

OK, for those of you who read this when I first posted it, you'll notice it changed. Quite a bit. One of my friends got a hold of this story and went crazy beta-ing it. So, the prologue's different and I may make a few changes in future chapters, but nothing major.

To my loverly reviewers for the prologue:

To Hermione-Personality: What? Don't you remember the assassin girl from CoS? Third chapter, page 105, second paragraph, fifth sentence? (To everybody: Ummm…I'm kidding by the way. Don't flame me b/c you were foolish enough to look.)

To greysnyper: I'm glad you read mine too!

To AtomicLevel27: You? Dark? Wow I never would have guessed! Added to say: You change your pen name far too much. I was wondering why I was getting updates from 'Queen of the Crows' and 'Angel of Music89' and all that stuff. You confused me…

Now I shall go. Adios mis amigos!


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

A lone figure stood in the shadows on the rooftop, gazing on the twinkling lights below. Candles burned in every window and an ornamented Christmas tree stood proud in each house. Footfalls rang loud as a much larger figure approached. The figure halted and squinted into the darkness. "Are ye here?" a man's voice said gruffly in a thick Irish brogue.

"Aye," was the soft reply, spoken in a woman's voice, automatically adapting to the dialect of the man. A small woman stepped into the light just ahead of the man. "And who might you be?" she inquired quietly.

"Names ain't none of yer business," he growled. "I don't ask ye and ye don't ask me. Me mistress wishes to speak to ye. If ye would follow me…"

The dark-haired woman gave a quick nod. A brisk wind arose and she wrapped her arms around herself, as if cold. In reality, though, she was checking the knives sheathed on her arms. Once she was reassured that she could easily access the weapons if the circumstances warranted, she nodded to the burly man to lead the way.

While they walked, she reflected on how she went to being an assassin in America to being a hired, possibly Dark, witch in Ireland. The note had appeared on her doorstep addressed to Shade, her nickname in the European Wizarding World. As like most of her clients, it was courteous (most people did not care to irritate her, they knew it was a mistake only to be made once), but arrogant enough to put a king to shame. Her presence was requested on the tenth of December, on top of some unknown building in an obscure Irish town at exactly twilight. The name was mentioned in the note; she remembered vaguely, she just didn't remember it at the moment. The building was left unlocked for her convenience, she had noted upon arrival. That led her to believe that her prospective client was fairly high up on the chain.

The man led her down the stairs. As they prowled the dark hallway, she ventured a question. "Can I know the name of your…mistress? After all, I'll be working for her soon." The man just grunted in reply and rudely motioned her to be silent. Feeling her pride had been offended, she stalked behind the lackey, figuring the 'mistress' would be annoyed if she killed the man.

An hour and three exchangings of men later, she had finally arrived at the doors of a seemingly abandoned building. On the trip, Shade had developed a new respect for her potential employer. This was a woman who did not take chances. Each man probably didn't know anything other than where he was supposed to pick her up and drop her off.

The latest leader rapped on the door smartly and it opened just a crack, not enough to see into the darkness of the room beyond. "Are ye th' one th' mistress be seekin'?" came through the crack.

She was getting tired of this. "If your mistress is seeking an assassin, then yes, I am she," Shade snapped, tired of disguising her voice. "I've got better things to do than run all over Ireland looking for this 'mistress'."

The person behind the door actually had the nerve to laugh at her! "Well, ye won't be in Ir'land fer long, lassie. Yer almost there." The door swung completely open to reveal a tall, thick bear of a man. He beckoned her to follow and led her through the empty building. They walked in silence, the assassin long since discovered this woman valued discretion in all of her underlings and paid well to maintain it. They passed two hallways and had turned down a third when the man turned to her. He pointed to the end where a large door was the only interruption on the vast white wall. "That door will take ye t' where ye need t' go."

Shade didn't move. The little woman stared at the big man until he began to shift under her flat gaze. "Bad things happen to those who open doors," she said finally just before he opened his mouth to complain. "You do it."

Still looking fearful, the man drew his wand. Visibly, she did not twitch an eyelid, but mentally she was checking all her knives and protective charms. However, the Unlocking Charm "_Alohomora!_" was the only spell used before he returned his wand to his pocket.

The door clicked open and with a soft sigh it swung open on its hinges. She moved closer only to discover the room was bare except for an unfurnished table set up in the center. Upon further examination, however, she noted a piece of parchment partially hidden by a large flat copper disk. Resting on the dark surface of the table, the disk was practically invisible—only the creamy corner of the parchment revealed the disk's location.

Careful not to touch the disk, she slowly pulled the parchment free and scanned it for any of the key mercenary words: kill, murder, political, and her favorite, compensation. When she didn't encounter any of the hot four, she reread the missive.

_My dear Shade,_

_I am delighted that you were intelligent enough to read this before you touched my little present—as you may have guessed, it is a Portkey to my home. If you had not, you would have instantly been sent to my manor without any of the knowledge you need to survive._

_After you use the Portkey, you will find yourself in my garden. Walk to the entrance and wait for my man. He may come immediately, he may not, but if you are not there when he arrives, I will know you did not follow the directions and therefore useless to me._

_You shall be dealt with according to your actions._

Shade took a moment to admire the mistress once again and wrap one hand around her wand before she touched a finger to the Portkey. She felt the familiar tug of the forced transportation spell on her and was soon lost in the blackness.

True to the letter, she had indeed landed in a garden. Monstrous plants towered over her while the nighttime lullaby of crickets and bugs pervaded the darkness. A faint silhouette of a barred gate shone faintly to her right—that must be the entrance. Walking at an exact pace, without hurrying or dragging her feet, she made her way to the entrance. After all, hurrying would make her seem nervous, strolling would make her seem foolish. Neither the nervous nor the foolish lasted long in her profession.

As luck would have it, Shade reached the gates half a step ahead of a cloaked man carrying a lit wand, approaching from the other direction. "Are you Shade?" he asked hesitantly. She merely looked at him. Who else would wander this dark land at the dead of night? "Al-alright. If you won't answer…" He sized her up carefully prior to pointing his wand at her. "I need to check your identity," he said in almost apologetic tones.

Shade merely showed her teeth in a mockery of a smile. She knew how he was going to do it and it was not a pleasant experience.

"_Revealus Persona!_"

The Revealing Spell hit her like a car. A big, fast moving, train car. She wanted to scream—the pain as her very molecules ripped from her body and showed themselves to the man was nearly unbearable. Each separate DNA strand felt like it was unraveling to show its patterns to this stranger. The pain seemed to last for hours even though she knew from observing that the spell only lasted for a few moments.

Through pure willpower, she kept her body steady. "That was fun, but next time it's your turn," she spat through gritted teeth. It may have been only her imagination, but she thought she saw a spasm of fear vibrate though the man. Clearly the mistress didn't choose her personal servants for their courage. That particular quality must be reserved only for her henchmen.

"Madam said she would see you as soon as you arrived. We shouldn't keep her waiting." With an odd movement, a half bow while simultaneously stepping back and partially turning around, the anxious man scuttled back the way he came. Shade directed a scowl to him, not surprised when he flinched and scuttled faster.

**Author's Notes: **Well, I was going to make this chapter longer since it's the holidays and all…but then I decided against it. Oh well, I _am_ the author. I already have the next chapter waiting for the finishing touches before I pop it out sometime in January. It was originally supposed to be the other half of this chapter, in case you were wondering.

I'm going to try to put out a new chapter every month—whether it be this story, one of the other five HP fics, one of my two Pokémon stories, my Neopets story, my Sims story, or my Creatures story. Wow, now I just realized that I truly have no life…unfortunately, what little life I have is calling me now. Ta-ta, my wondrous readers! Please become my wondrous reviewers!

Chapter 1 reviewers:

Autalen – Awww, shucks, yaw really thaynk so? Actually, giving her the name of 'Shade' was an after thought. I just got tired of writing 'the assassin' and 'the (insert-adjective-here) woman'.

What? Only one reviewer for chapter one? I'm going to cry sniff sniff


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter still not mine. Shade is though, so keep your hands off.

Chapter Two

The servant led her to the looming manor via a long and winding trail. He was moving so fast that he would quickly get far ahead of Shade, then as he looked back he would trip over his own feet and go sprawling in the dirt. By the time he had regained his balance, she was only a few steps behind him. Like a startled rabbit, he would leap to his feet and begin scurrying again.

She watched with amusement the first time, annoyance the second, and outright irritation the third and fourth time he fell. The next time he stumbled she increased her pace just enough to grab his arm. With a tremendous tug, she pulled him to his feet. "I never curse people behind their backs," she said wearily. "I'll wait until they're looking. Now walk like a proper person unless I decide to break my rule."

The man blanched. Shaking visibly, he slowed his erratic pace to something more manageable. Shade lurked in his shadow, knowing fully well that she was terrifying the poor man.

They reached the front doors sometime later. Shade noted with professional respect at the level of security that the mistress utilized. The magical creature-shaped topiaries really tried to attack intruders, although a leafy dragon seemed quite surprised when Shade took off its head with a well-aimed Severing Hex. A Bottomless Pit was visible running along the edge of the property and she saw several neat little Muggle attack mechanisms that shot arrows and other painful objects.

All in all, the defense at the manor was very secure. She was impressed. In her mind, a person who would go through that much trouble protecting a castle in the middle of nowhere would be a very interesting boss, female or no.

The front of the manor was no less impressive. Huge archways and pillars framed two gigantic wooden doors, reinforced with iron. A heavy iron knocker in the shape of a dragon's head adorned the left. The servant seemed loath to touch the knocker, instead he rapped on the door with his knuckles.

The right door swung open slowly, causing the man to jump nervously. Pale eyes peered at her through the gloom. "Mistress Shade?" a cool voice prompted.

Shaded nodded slightly, after all, who else could the mistress be expecting this late at night? "I am she."

The door opened wider, revealing a tall, pale man. "Madame wishes to see you now. Please follow me."

The scared little servant jumped ahead and scampered away as fast as his legs could take him. Shade directed one last sneer to his back, glad that she had finally escaped him. The tall man motioned impatiently, causing her to step up a little.

He led her past open rooms and locked doors. Portraits of gaunt faces stared down at her, some making rude comments while others remained silent. One even shouted out as if he knew her, but upon looking back, none of the portraits would meet her eyes.

The house-elves also seemed to know of her. They shrank back when she passed them, seemingly trying to press themselves into the walls. One even was so frightened as to squeak and drop the load of clean linens she was carrying, heedless of the dirty stone floor.

The length of the trip in itself was also a point for thought. By her internal map, Shade reckoned she had climbed down enough stairs to be nearly 100 feet underground…far enough down to connect with the underground cities the European Wizarding community was famous for. This cut down on her list of possible locations. Shade knew that only the old money purebloods would have manors tying in so seamlessly with the underground tunnels—the new had to take precautions such as arches and pillars so they did not have a cave-in during construction. And unless this mistress hired all her servants from out of the country, each person she came into contact with had a British accent. However, this was a possibility as her own grandparents were an example of the silly things the wealthy did.

All in all, her list had been cut down to pureblood families in Britain and the surrounding area. As there were less than twenty all located in about the same region when she last checked, Shade had a pretty good estimate of where she was.

Finally, the man stopped in front of a solid wooden door. He knocked gently and opened it when a soft voice called, "Come in."

Shade's first impression was of a study with the roaring fire, cozy chairs, and large desk. But when the person sitting behind the desk spoke, she quickly narrowed her attention to the speaker.

The older woman regarded her with piercing blue eyes. "I am Narcissa Malfoy," she finally said. "You are Shade…or rather, Mina Levski, are you not?"

Mina was taken aback. Mina Levski was indeed her birth name, but she hadn't used it since she left school. Obviously there was a cunning mind behind the pretty face. Narcissa noted the younger witch's surprise and smiled. "I have heard of your reputation as a mercenary. You've never failed a job and your previous employers praise you highly. I wish to hire your services."

The young assassin almost sighed with disgust. They always wanted a murder. Sometimes she wondered why she didn't just quit her mercenary career before she got killed. "Half the money up front, the other after I present the body. I may also require additional funds if the target is well-known or particularly difficult…" The smile on Narcissa's face grew as Mina rattled out prices for various services.

"That's exactly what I thought," she interrupted smugly. "You've been in the trade long enough to make a reputation for yourself, but you're still young enough to be innocent."

This statement cause Mina to raise an eyebrow. Innocent? She hadn't been innocent since the day Adela died. Dozens of people had met their deaths at her hands. "If I'm so innocent," she said through gritted teeth. "Then you would no doubt find some other assassin to your liking."

Narcissa laughed. It was not a threatening sound, just a laugh of simple amusement. Nevertheless, Mina still placed her hand on the hilt of her dagger. "Your innocence is what makes you such a wonderful killer. No one will expect such a pretty girl to start shooting the Killing Curse at people. However interesting that would be to watch, I have a rather…unusual…job for you. People are trying to kill my son and, quite frankly, I don't want to see him dead."

So. Not a killer, a bodyguard. "Madame Malfoy, I am not a baby-sitter. If you want me to protect your son, I can do a far better job by removing those after his blood than by taking care of a little boy."

"My son isn't but two years or so younger than you. You are only nineteen, correct?"

Mina's mouth twisted in smirk. "A little older," she replied. Truly, she was closer to twenty-five, but she couldn't tell this pale-haired witch that. The date on Mina Levski's birth certificate certified that she was indeed born almost twenty years ago, but she had used Time-Turners so often that she had aged years.

That seemed to satisfy Narcissa. "And my son is seventeen. You'll just have to take some Youthfulness Potion to bypass the Hogwarts gates—"

"Hogwarts?" Mina was immediately interested. Harry Potter attended Hogwarts…and would be entering his seventh year this fall, if she remembered correctly. That would be interesting—meeting Harry Potter without being under orders to kill him. Not that she could anyway—the boy had a nasty habit of getting rid of those who threatened him, intentionally or not.

"Yes, it's quite ridiculous really; you've got to be under eighteen or a teacher to enter without Dumbledore's permission…"

Mina tuned Narcissa's voice down to a low murmur. It was a trick all assassins learned quickly; retain information while examining the surroundings. And what interesting surroundings they were.

The room looked like a standard man's study: dark wood, lots of dragon hide, and the faint scent of a cigar, even though Narcissa hardly looked like the sort of woman to tolerate a husband's smoking.

She was just starting to wonder exactly where the husband was when something Narcissa said caught her attention.

"Girlfriend?" Mina repeated.

Narcissa nodded simply. "There's no other way around it. You'll have to pose as Draco's girlfriend from another school."

"And what lie am I supposed to feed everyone?" asked Mina brusquely. She would much rather protect the boy hidden than pretend she was his 'lady-friend'.

"I assumed you would be clever enough to think up one. Now, run along and meet Draco while I get your fees together."

Long hours at her job taught Mina to leave when the dismissal was clear, but now she fought her instinct and stood. "Madame Malfoy. I will not pretend I am your son's whore," she snapped, eyes narrowed.

Narcissa narrowed her own eyes in return. "My son does not associate with any prostitutes, Miss Levski." Her features relaxed as she reconsidered her statement. "Or at least, Draco has been wise enough to hide any associations from me." Mina opened her mouth to argue, but Narcissa steamrolled right over her. "And while I pay you, you work for me. I'm not asking you to sleep with him, so you can wipe that charming blush right off your face—" With a start, Mina noticed she _was_ blushing "—so I really don't know why you're so upset. Now please leave."

With a toss of her head, Mina turned on her heel and left like a good little assassin.

**Author's notes**: The whole Malfoy Manor defense system was based off of Cassandra Claire's Draco Trilogy. Read it. Love it. I did.


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